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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28895157">Nobis | TommyInnit &amp; WilburSoot | Rust</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexandraMariaAnna/pseuds/AlexandraMariaAnna'>AlexandraMariaAnna</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rust (Video Game), tommyinnit - Fandom, wilbursoot - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anyways, FOUND FAMILY LETS GOOO, Found Family, Gen, all i have to go on is that they spawned together and i just RAN with it, hurt comfort? in my fanfic? more likely than you think, i feel like will would ask ranboo to take care of tommy bc he's neutral to the sides, obligatory not a native speaker tag, ranboo cousin pog, so anyways wilbur is slowly dying, so hows that sbi rust going for yall, yes this is tamatojam's headcanon for the radiation burns</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 09:35:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,737</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28895157</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexandraMariaAnna/pseuds/AlexandraMariaAnna</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Before he goes, he needs to make sure that what he leaves behind stays safe.<br/>In a world that was against them, all they had was each other.<br/>---<br/>A piece on brotherhood and race against time.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Wilbur Soot &amp; TommyInnit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>78</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Nobis | TommyInnit &amp; WilburSoot | Rust</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Wilbur Soot scratched at his hand. His skin was itchy and red, areas that weren’t irritated anymore faded into a gentle brownish-orange color; rust. He hissed as his fingernail caught onto a crack, and he stopped, instantly missing the relief that the scratching brought. In the dull light that the bonfire provided, the faded scars looked almost like intricate designs that back in the day someone skilled would paint on his body for a hefty price. Alas, he was getting this for free, and it was not an object of envy or pride. </p><p>When rust first spread, Wilbur realized he was dying.  </p><p>It was a hollow feeling. The fact that the world was already falling apart around him was perhaps one of the reasons for his indifference about his own mortality, but the prospect of impending death should have given him at least a jolt, some sort of primal urgency that is deep-seated within every living being.  There was nothing in his chest, however, as he watched yet another person die from radiation poisoning, hunger, thirst, or simply human violence, birthed from hubris. Wilbur Soot was a hollow shell of a man that abandoned hope a long time ago. </p><p>That was until he saw the same bronze-colored patterns on Tommy’s hands. </p><p>Tommy was loud, Tommy was obnoxious, Tommy was annoying, but he stayed by his side and he had his back when others inevitably turned against him when faced with difficult choices the current state of the world brought.  </p><p>Tommy was rude, Tommy was aggressive, Tommy was spiteful, but he was always there when Wilbur needed to let his frustrations out by the dim light of a campfire, and he always offered half-hearted advice that almost always missed the mark by a mile. Still, he cared, in his own way, and he showed it just like that. He spoke concern with glances, with delicate touch as he helped Wilbur change on days when radiation caused his every move to feel not unlike being burned alive, with the willingness to aid with anything and everything, though he would whine and curse under his breath.  </p><p>Tommy was the closest Wilbur had to a family in that bitch of a world, and he anchored himself in that feeling, calming the storms in his head and heart by making sure the younger boy was safe and fed. Good gear, decent food; there wasn’t much he could give him, but he gave him the world with his dying hands, holding it tightly so the tremors wouldn’t ruin anything. And Tommy appreciated it, though he never said it out loud, he didn’t know how; he wasn’t taught how to do so.  </p><p>The sun was going to rise soon; Wilbur quickly doused his hands in water to cool the burns and calm the itching down, and he stood up, wincing as his muscles screamed in process, tired after yet another sleepless night. His head spun for a moment, and Will took a couple of deep breaths to ground himself before he actually moved from his spot, his legs carrying him in the direction of Tommy’s resting spot.  </p><p>He was sleeping, obviously, anyone that wasn’t Wilbur Soot would do so at four in the morning, and he was sleeping surprisingly deep, with a peaceful, rare expression on his face. It didn’t match his rough, burned fingertips, the scar behind his ear, the tattered clothes; while he was asleep, he looked like a child he truly was. Filled with hope. Hope that would disappear the moment he opened his eyes.</p><p> Tommy didn’t deserve to be put in that situation, in that world; he should be finishing school, enjoying life- </p><p>A knock on the downstairs door. </p><p>Wilbur gently draped his tattered coat over Tommy’s sleeping form, adding just a little more warmth to the thin comforter Tommy cocooned himself in. The knock came again, and the man made his way downstairs, doing his best not to slip on the battered steps. After a series of short beeps, the heavy door swung open with a loud creak that Will hoped didn’t wake Tommy up.  </p><p>“Wow. You look terrible.” the man on the other side laughed, and Wilbur adjusted his thin shirt, attempting to hide the rust from the harsh elements as well as he could.  <br/>
“I’m not the one who’s losing hair, Ranboo.”  <br/>
“Fair point, fair point.”  </p><p> They walked for a while, ignoring the freezing wind that nipped at their exposed skin and the distant sound of helicopters that were circling the area non-stop. The grass was covered in the morning mist, and, had it not been for the overwhelming feeling of despair that covered the entirety of the land with a thick fog, it might have just been a pleasant scene to see in the morning; daybreak, nature, and company of a friend.  </p><p>It was silent for a while, before Ranboo spoke up, his eyes flickering worriedly between the road in front of them and Wilbur’s shaking hands, which were clutching his MP5 like his life depended on it. </p><p>“How are you feeling?” he asked, and a chuckle bubbled up in Will’s throat, escaping in a form of a short, quick exhale of air.  <br/>
“You just told me I look terrible.”  <br/>
“Well, the outside and the inside isn’t always the same?” Ranboo whined, embarrassed. Wilbur patted him on the back gently, mindful of his own burns.  <br/>
“Not the best. I’m not feeling the best. Everything hurts, as always.”  </p><p>The sun was slowly rising over the horizon, and Ranboo squinted his eyes so he wouldn’t get blinded. To his surprise, Wilbur didn’t look away, his eyes still facing forward. Did he not fear hurt anymore? This entire walk felt strange; being called up in the middle of the night and asked to show up at daybreak – Ranboo couldn’t help but feel like he was being led into a trap. Still, he walked, keeping his pace similar to Wilbur’s, who was walking slower than usual, as if he tried to take in the sights.  </p><p>“Ranboo, I called you here to ask you for a favor.” Wilbur chimed in after a moment, and Ranboo snapped out of his thought-filled stupor and nodded in approval. “I’m- I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to stay active,” he spoke, and the boy frowned in confusion. <br/>
“What do you mean?”  </p><p>Wilbur sighed deeply, wincing when his gut churned for the eighth time that night. The sun was now over the horizon, warming the scarred earth, enveloping it in a loving embrace. Wilbur Soot loved the sun, and the sun loved him as well, kissing his diseased skin.  </p><p>“I’ve been having fevers, my muscles are on fire, none of my wounds are healing-” he hummed, almost as if he was recalling a pleasant story and not pointing out his symptoms. “-I haven’t slept more than few minutes at a time in weeks. I’m fucked Ranboo! I’m running on fumes!” <br/>
“Oh, um. That’s bad, huh.” Ranboo muttered. <br/>
“You’re such a good conversation partner.” Wilbur laughed, this time fully, to the point that his chest hurt. Ranboo smiled gently, glad that he could at least take Will’s mind off the grim topic for a moment. “But no, really. I feel like my end is coming up hot, and if anything happens, Ranboo, I’d like you to stick with Tommy. He’s a smart kid, but he’s impulsive, and I feel like that hubris is going to bring him down if I’m not there to keep him in check.”</p><p>“That’s sounded very grave of you, no pun intended. Are you sure about what you’re telling me?” <br/>
“Yeah. <em>Yeah</em>.”  </p><p>The sound of the helicopter got louder and louder as both of the men approached the dome, glancing around nervously for any signs of life that could shorten their, already comically short, lifespan. There was no one around, however, and Wilbur patted himself of the back for deciding to set out this early in the morning. Still, the gun burned his fingers, the metal digging into his scarred skin, but he only gripped it tighter, pushing through the pain as he aimed at a nearby structure from behind which, at any moment's notice, someone could jump out.  </p><p>No one. Silence. Wilbur exhaled shakily, not daring to loosen his grasp on the weapon, not wanting to let blood run through his veins more than it has to. The church was already visible in the distance, and there were already familiar figures swarming it, bickering between themselves, checking the barely-working electricity, or just sitting on the stone steps, laughing at dumb jokes that one of them made.  </p><p>“Should I go?” Ranboo whispered, leaning closer to Wilbur’s ear when all the heads perked up at the sight of him. “I’ve never officially become a member of your organization.” <br/>
“No. You’ll have to know this as well,” he muttered back and took just one more step forward before his head spun, and he collapsed to his knees, his stomach churning for the last time. With a squelch, he threw up, cursing in his head when he saw streaks of red in his stomach matter; that’s exactly what he needed at that moment, internal bleeding. </p><p>He stayed in that position for a while, until his nausea became manageable again, and until his head stopped pounding with dull pain. Ranboo eventually helped him get up, and Wilbur wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, frowning when he noticed that the alarmed folk were now racing in his direction, yelling out his name in distress.  </p><p>“Don’t tell Tommy,” Wilbur said before he was swarmed by teary-eyed individuals. </p><p>“I won’t,” Ranboo swore, and that was the last thing they said to each other that morning.  </p><p>The walkie-talkie at his side crackled to life, transmitting Tommy’s distressed voice, who probably panicked after waking up and not seeing Wilbur in the room. He was screaming obscenities, but he was already on his way to the church, and through frantic touches of The Dome Church, and Tommy’s cracking voice, Wilbur felt just the tiniest bit at peace. </p><p>When Tommy appeared on the horizon, still screaming into the walkie-talkie in his hand, Wilbur could swear that the pain in his body became almost bearable.  </p><p>There were two suns over the plains, and Wilbur craved to be blinded by both of them, until he couldn’t see anymore, until he slipped into peaceful oblivion, satisfied with what he has done. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>and then he died like a week later!<br/>just kidding<br/>or am i?</p><p>anyways i love sbi rust and i needed to get this out of my head, thank you for reading!<br/>find me at @SummoningFailed on twitter, if you want to argue with me about character arcs.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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